From Age to Age the Same
by Laterose
Summary: Harry Potter's son Silas is about ten years old when he and his father are accidentally sent back in time during an attack on their home. Silas finds himself in a war-ridden world when his father was sixteen and Voldemort is at large. (4 reloaded)
1. The Attack

**~Hello, it's me again!!! Here you are, a little side story to my main one.  For those of you who've seen it before, I had to change the name of the main character because, well, it kind of sucked. If people like this chapter I'll post what else I've got [looks hopeful] please R&R!!! ~** **From Age to Age the Same.**

Chapter 1 – The Attack 

Silas was jerked out of bed by a crash that shook his bedroom floor at three o'clock on Friday morning. 

He reached for his wand and whispered, "Lumos."

Light filled the little bedroom and Silas heard other, smaller crashes from below. Silas pulled his trousers and T-shirt on over his pyjamas and tiptoed across the landing. 

His father came out of his own room at the same time, fully clothed in his usual black and green robes. His face was pale and his knuckles were white as he clutched his wand tightly. His mother followed, holding her baby protectively in her arms.  

There was light enough on the landing. Silas put his wand back in his pocket.

"How many?" his father asked her. Mrs. Potter closed her eyes in concentration. "Eleven," she said finally, the crashes getting even louder. 

No one had ever been able to work out how Silas' father had managed to find a true Seer to be his wife. Not many people worried.

"_How _many_?_"

"Harry, what'll we do?" 

Silas' father thought for a long second, and then put his hand on the banister. 

"Harry, no!"

"Take Silas," he said, pain evident in his eyes. "Take the Portkey to Hogwarts _now_!"

"Aren't you coming, Dad?" asked Silas, his eyes wide. 

"The Portkey can only take three, Silas," his father explained, hugging him. "We hadn't counted on James. Look after your mum and your brother for me, won't you?"

And he was gone, down the stairs and out of sight, blending in with the shadows on the walls. 

"Come, Silas," said his mother. 

Obediently, Silas followed her into the bedroom. She started digging under the bed as the noises from downstairs grew louder, accompanied by muffled yelled curses and screams of Death Eaters. 

"Here it is," she said at last, in relief, holding out an old slipper to her son. He touched it with one finger, as his mother leant forward so that baby James could hold it too.

Then, three things happened at the same time. Silas' mother spoke the word to activate the Portkey; there was an extra loud scream from beneath the bedroom floor, and Silas let go of the slipper.  

He saw his mother's eyes widen in shock as the Portkey whisked her and her baby to safety.

The house shook. Silas went back onto the landing and put one hand on the banister, like his father had done. 

The explosion that followed sent him spinning down the stairs into the back of someone much larger than his father. 

The Death Eater toppled forward as Silas rolled clear. 

"Stupify!"

Silas' father stepped over the immobile form of the Death Eater and hauled his son roughly to his feet. "Silas? What are you doing here? Did something go -?"

He pulled Silas to the floor just in time as a beam of red light shot past his ear. 

There were five Death Eaters in the Hall, and there were sounds of others coming form the other rooms. 

It sounded like Silas' mother would be mourning her family's priceless heirlooms when she came back. She_ was _going to come back. 

The Death Eaters advanced, their wands outstretched. Silas ducked as another red beam of light singed his hair. His father stood in front of him, whispering curses in raped succession while keeping his shields erect and strong at the same time. 

Silas did his best. On the rare occasion that his curses got through his father's shields to hit a target, they had very little effect. He was only ten years old, after all.

His father soon began to tire. One of his shields shattered with a vibration that sang in every vein. 

Silas felt the wall against his back. They were trapped.

"Silas," his father said with gritted teeth. "Grab onto me tight. Don't argue." Silas held onto his father's arm.

The Death Eaters were shouting taunts now, mocking words that could hardly be heard above the hum of curses. "I'm going to apparate," said Mr. Potter quietly, sending one of the black-robed men into the old bureau. 

Silas gulped. It took a lot of power and concentration to take another living human with you when you apparated, even only a small one. It was very dangerous, and seldom tried. 

"I'm passing the shield to you," his father continued. "Try to hold it."

Slowly, he passed his wand to Silas, who gripped it firmly, trying to ignore the shuddering pressure on his body whenever a curse ht it. How had his father endured this for so long?

"Hold on," his father said, and closed his eyes. Silas began to feel a tug like a very slow Portkey. 

One of the Death Eaters stood forward, lifted his wand, and yelled something inaudible. The resulting curse made the shields collapse entirely. 

Silas tugged desperately on his father's arm, but he was too far-gone into the multi-person apparition spell to notice. 

The Death Eater smiled triumphantly and raised his wand a second time. 

"Stupify!"

Silas had a brief glimpse of his father arching backwards, blood blossoming on the front of his white shirt beneath his robes. 

He had only time for shock at his father's dead white face, and confusion at the fact that 'Stupify' shouldn't make you bleed, before Time shattered into a million pieces. 

~Hope y'all enjoyed that!!! If you want more – well, there's a little blue button down there just screaming for you to click it… ~__


	2. Hogwarts

~Thanks for all the nice reviews, guys! To answer the most prominent query, I haven't forgotten about fifth year. This is just something I've had written for a while and hadn't bothered to post, until I decided that it deserves credit too. Chapter two: Silas is at Hogwarts – but everything's different! What's going on? ~ From Age to Age the Same 

Chapter 2 – Hogwarts

~Time smashed into a million pieces…~

Silas landed with a bump on the floor of a large chamber. He stood up and brushed himself off. 

"Dad?" he asked tentatively. There was no answer. 

All he could see was his father's face, the blood covering his clothes over his chest, his expression of surprise…

"Where are you?" 

Suddenly, he knew where he was. This was the Entrance Hall at Hogwarts! 

He'd been here last year when his father had brought him to see Dumbledore after his magic overflow problem, to make sure it was sorted. He'd got his wand the same day. 

Remembering his wand, Silas picked up both it and his father's wand where they had fallen on the floor. 

He pocketed his dad's, but held his own before him. That made him feel slightly better. 

"Dad?" he asked again, a little louder. "Anyone?" 

The sound echoed and reverberated around the huge room and up the marble staircase. 

Dumbledore. Dumbledore would help. Besides, his mother and James would be there, wouldn't they? Yes, they had taken the Portkey to Hogwarts. 

That's where he had to go – Dumbledore's office. Maybe his father had found his way there.

The only problem was, as Silas soon realised, was that it was a very long, complicated route. He got lost in the first five minutes and wandered aimlessly for the next ten. 

There was also something very strange going on, he thought. When he'd left the house, it'd only just past midnight. 

Now, however, the midday sun was shining through the windows and he could hear murmured voices coming from behind the classroom doors. 

He wondered briefly whether he should ask someone, and had just had time to realise that it was a little odd for Hogwarts to be teaching in the middle of August when a bell rang, so loudly that he yelled and slammed his hands over his ears. 

At this sound, doors suddenly burst open all up and sown the corridor and black robed students piled out, slinging bags over their shoulders and talking loudly. 

Silas flattened himself against a stone wall and watched them all pass helplessly, until at last, someone noticed him. 

"You lost?" 

Silas looked up. A boy much taller than he was was smiling down at him. 

He was dressed in black like all the others, but he had a large silvery badge with the letter 'P' on it pinned to his chest.

"Yes," Silas said quickly. "I'm looking for Professor Dumbledore."

"No problem," said the older boy. "Follow me."

The boy led him up countless staircases and through several hidden doors behind tapestries. Silas did his best to remember the way in case this ever happened again before he came to Hogwarts. 

Finally they reached an ugly looking gargoyle. The boy swore quietly. "I've forgotten the password," he said. 

"Oh," said Silas.

Just then, three other students turned the corner, talking seriously amongst themselves. 

One was a tall, red haired boy with a long nose, and there was a pretty girl with brown hair like a bush. The third was a short, skinny black haired boy with glasses. He looked weirdly familiar. 

As a matter of fact, Silas was sure he'd seen them all before – though he couldn't say from where… 

The three stopped talking when they saw Silas and the older boy. 

"What are you three doing?" said the boy with the silver badge. 

"We were going to see Professor Dumbledore," the brown haired girl told him. 

Silas' guide suddenly looked relieved. "I don't suppose you'd take this kid with you?" he asked. "He's lost and I've got Potions revision." 

The red-headed boy winced sympathetically. "We'll take him. Good luck."

The boy with the badge grinned and strode off. 

"How'd you get lost?" the girl asked. 

Silas shrugged. He was still watching the boy with glasses, who turned to the gargoyle waiting patiently in the corridor and said, "Mars Bar."

The gargoyle jumped aside as Silas giggled. 

"How old are you?" asked the girl, ever persistent, as they stepped onto the moving staircase. 

She seemed to be just trying to have a friendly conversation, however, so Silas answered. 

"I'm ten," he said. 

"Where are your parents?" 

Silas looked away, the memory of that morning flooding back. 

"Well… my Mum ought to be upstairs with Professor Dumbledore and my baby brother. My Dad…" he shrugged sadly. 

The black haired boy looked back at him sympathetically. "My Dad's dead too," he said. 

"He's not dead!" said Silas, refusing to believe it could possibly have come to that horrifying reality. "I just don't know where he is!" Tears were flowing helplessly down his cheeks now, and the other three looked decidedly uncomfortable. 

"What's your name?" asked the other boy unhelpfully. 

Silas glared at him. "_Silas,_" he hissed. 

All three of them jumped, very nearly falling down the staircase. 

"You just… you…" said the redhead. Silas didn't know why they were all looking so scared. His hand tightened about his father's wand in his pocket as he wiped his eyes resolutely. 

"We're here," said the boy with glasses, his eyes wild. They had reached the door. The boy knocked. "Professor Dumbledore? It's Harry."    

If Silas had been in a normal state of mind, he would have realised that Harry was a very common name and could belong to anyone. 

As it was, he stopped crying abruptly and said, "Are you making fun of me?" just as a voice from behind the door said, "Harry? Come in."

**~You know I do this on purpose, don't you? : -P **

**Thanks for all the great reviews!**

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	3. Misunderstandings

~I'm getting quite a bit of response from here, so I thought I'd go ahead and post the next chapter (I had four prepared before I posted #1.) I know I should really be updating my other fic, but what the hell. Please R&R and if you make me happy, I'll update! From Age to Age the Same 

Chapter 3 – Misunderstandings

They all walked in, Silas bringing up the rear as he wiped his eyes. He sighed with relief when he saw the old man behind the desk. Finally someone he recognised! But there _was_ something different about him – he seemed younger, and there were fewer lines around his eyes. Maybe he'd been getting more sleep recently.

Silas pushed passed the others. "Professor Dumbledore!"

The Headmaster stood up. The other two people who were sitting facing him turned around in their seats. 

Silas recognised one of them, even though he, too, looked younger and less tired than usual. 

"Remus!" he said excitedly, but his Godfather just looked surprisingly bewildered. 

"Can I help you, young man?" said Dumbledore.

"Where's my mum?" said Silas, looking around for her. "She's meant to be here!"

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore started to say, but Silas rushed ahead. 

"She's supposed to have come here with James – she took the Portkey to Hogwarts!"

Dumbledore frowned. "There are no Portkeys to Hogwarts," he said. "The castle is protected against them – it has been for a while…"

Dumbledore's eyes flicked towards the older black-haired boy. 

"But you gave it to my Dad! Silas exclaimed. "You must remember! In case something happened! We were being attacked by Death Eaters – "

The other man in the room whom Silas did not recognise croaked "Death Eaters?"

"Yes," said Silas, nodding frantically. "Seven of them. Dad told us to take the Portkey but I couldn't leave him so I followed him downstairs and I couldn't hold the shield, and he tried to apparate out of there but he got hit with a curse and –"

Professor Dumbledore held up a hand. Silas stopped talking and stood there, breathing heavily.

"Harry," said Professor Dumbledore. "Would you like to explain your companion?"

Silas felt the anger building inside him again. Why didn't Dumbledore believe him? Why was he asking that boy, whom Silas had decided he most definitely did not like?

Strangely enough, the boy didn't look all too please either. "Well, I don't really know, sir," said the boy, scratching the back of his head. "Dave, from Hufflepuff, you know, said he was lost so we said we'd take him up since we were coming anyway. Only… he spoke Parseltongue, on the way up."

"I did not!" Silas yelled. His_ father _talked to snakes, _he _never had. 

"He did sir," said the redheaded boy, stepping forward. "Hermione asked him his name, and he hissed at her."

"Oh?" said Dumbledore, "And what did he say?" 

The black haired boy shrugged. "He said 'son'."

"I did not!" Silas said again. "I said my name, Silas!"

"No," said the boy Dumbledore had called Harry. "You said, **_Silas_**." It was the same word, but it came out in a long throaty hiss. Everyone in the room who wasn't sitting down moved one step away from the boy. "It literally translates as 'son'. Didn't you know?"

"No," Silas lied. He _did_ know. But no one else knew except his father, and his mother, who had insisted on knowing when her husband immediately suggested the name for their son. Harry had told her only because she had her own ways of finding out – sometimes her gift was a serious disadvantage. 

Passa's four godparents had looked strangely at him, but hadn't asked. They seemed to know that it was easier not to ask Silas' father things like that.

So how was it that this Harry knew? Silas' dad was the only Parselmouth in the world. He'd _said_. 

"Harry," said Professor Dumbledore, quite calmly. "What are you suggesting here, here?"

"I don't know, sir," said Harry. "He's a little young to be a Death Eater…"

"I'm NOT a DEATH EATER!" Silas yelled. "I was just _attacked _by Death Eaters! I'm just Silas Potter! Why don't you recognise me?"

"Potter?" snarled the greasy haired man. 

"YES! You HAVE to remember me! What's going on?"

"Well, he's not related to me," said Harry.

"What? Why should I be?"

"Well," said Professor Dumbledore, folding his fingers on the desk. "Parseltongue cannot be learned. It is either inherited, or, in your case Harry, magically transferred. So, unless something extremely significant has happened that I don't know about, this boy is either your son, which is highly unlikely, or –"

"No way," said Harry. "Just – no way."

Silas smiled faintly. He usually got his kind of reaction when people found out whom his father was.

"But," said the boy. "This kid can't be more than ten years old… it's impossible!" 

"How old did you think I was?" Silas said, annoyed. Had the whole world suddenly turned stupid? It had been national new when he was born, he knew, perhaps even global. His dad _had_ killed the most evil dark wizard of all time, after all. 

There was a box in the attic full of the only press cuttings his father had ever kept – smiling, waving pictures of the three of them, only a year after his parents had been married. 

"Who are you?" 'Harry demanded. "Who are you really?"

"I've _told _you," Silas said in pure exasperation. "Remus, tell them who I am."

Harry whirled on Remus, who held his hands up in defence. "I've never seen him before in my life," he said.

"You're my GODFATHER!"  Silas yelled at him, suddenly void of any rational thought. "My _Godfather!_ This isn't _funny_!"

Tears were crawling down his cheeks again but he didn't care, and he brushed them away in anger. 

"Come in," said Dumbledore.

"A stiff, upright woman with her grey hair in a tight bun entered the room. "Hagrid found a man on the edge of the forest," she said in a shaky voice. "He's in the hospital wing, and he's asking for you."

"Very well," said Dumbledore. He motioned for Silas to go before him. Silas didn't want to, but the slim chance that the man the grey-haired lady was talking about could be his father compelled him.

It seemed like a very long journey to the hospital wing. They met Hagrid outside the door, and he looked shaken. He glanced at Silas, and Silas' heart rose, thinking that at last someone had recognised him, but the giant's eyes slid off him and back to Dumbledore. He opened the door, nodding to the Headmaster. 

"Hagrid –" Silas started to plead, but Dumbledore gave him a little push inside before he could finish speaking. 

There was a thin man in tattered and bloodstained green and black robes lying on one of the beds. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be dozing. 

"… Dad?" Silas whispered, scarcely able to believe it. 

The man's eyes shot open and he sat up with a grunt of pain. "Silas?" he croaked.

"DAD!" Silas ran forward and launched himself onto his father. Harry held his son tightly, whispering. "It's ok, son. Everything's going to be all right." 

**Awww.. sappy finish. Sniff. I love Harry/Silas scenes. Sniff. Not that you've seen too many of them so far – next chapter is practically aimed at them. See you soon – if you review!! **


	4. Conversation

From Age to Age the Same 

Chapter 4 – Harry Potter

­­­­Silas didn't care that Dumbledore, Remus, the slimy man, Hagrid and the three students were watching. He only cared that he had found his father, he was alive, and they were in each other's arms again. His father was holding him so tight he couldn't breathe, and they sobbed silently into each other's shoulders.

After a while his dad held Silas away from him so he could look into his face. Silas hurriedly wiped his eyes. "I thought I'd lost you," he said.

His father hugged him again. "I'm sorry, son," he said. "I'm _so_ sorry."

"Where were you?"

"The Forbidden Forest," his father grunted. "Of all the absurd places to end up – " he looked around him. "Dumbledore!" he greeted him. "Thank Merlin. Is Iris here?"

Dumbledore spread his arms in bewilderment. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"What?" Silas' father exclaimed, trying to get up. "What do you me –" suddenly he seemed to notice the other people in the room. "Remus? Snape? Hagrid?" but you all look so –"

Then his eyes fell on the other three and he swore, loudly.

"How friendly," said the redhead.

But Silas' father was looking at the black-haired boy Dumbledore had called Harry, who, now Silas came to think of it looked an awful lot like his father, except his father no longer wore glasses since someone had invented an eyesight shield charm.

The two stared at each other for a while, until Silas' dad looked down at his bloodied robes, as though in recognition. Then he looked up at the boy again. "Please don't tell me you're Harry Potter."

Silas' eyes snapped from the boy to his father's face. Was he mad? _He _was Harry Potter – what was he talking about?

"Yes," said the black-haired boy, looking suspicious again. "What's it to you?"

Silas was about to reply scathingly at this blatant lie, but then his father thumped back on the bed and drew his hands over his face.

"Dad," Silas said, matter-of-factly. "You know he's lying, right?"

"What – godforsaken – year is it?" his father moaned through his fingers. Dumbledore told him, and he swore worse than before.

"Don't be stupid," said Silas to Dumbledore. "That was… thirteen years ago!" He was only ten, but he could _count_, after all, and he wasn't _stupid_. Had the whole world gone mad?

A look of understanding suddenly crossed Dumbledore's face, and he sat down, quickly. "Ah," he said.

The bushy-haired girl also seemed to understand what was going on. She said, "Oh," and put one hand to her mouth. "You've had some sort of a time accident, haven't you?"

"Accident?" moaned Silas' dad, "More like disaster."

"Time?" Silas croaked. "What… sort of time?"

"Thirteen years," said his father, not removing his hands from his face. "Thirteen whole bloody years."

"Future or past," asked the black haired boy.

"Past – or at least, we're from your future. As a matter of fact," he said, raising himself on his elbows to look the boy right in the eye. "I am your future."

The boy smiled. "I thought you might be." He held out a hand. "Harry Potter."

Silas' father shook it. "Harry Potter." They grinned at each other as Silas stared at the two of them.

"Time?" Silas whispered again. "How?"

Harry the elder looked back at him. "You saw me get hit by that Stunner, didn't you?"

"That was MY fault," Silas wailed, "I couldn't hold that… that shield…"

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry said. "You're ten years old."

"But if I hadn't come downstairs…"

Harry held up a hand. "No guilt trips please," he said.

"Yes, Dad," Silas said automatically.

"I don't get it," said the red-haired boy. "How could a Stunner send you back in time?"

"The Stunner didn't, Ron," Harry said. "This did."

Wincing, he lifted a chain from around his neck over is head. From it hung the remains of a tiny hourglass. Most of the glass was missing – it was a wooden frame with jagged edges.

The girl gasped. "Didn't that _hurt_?" she gasped.

"Not too bad," said Mr. Potter, looking at it in disgust. "There's a considerable amount of glass in my chest, though."

"Which I intend to resolve right now," said a woman who came bustling in from a room off the ward. "Out of the way, everyone!"

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said, lying back down, the chain dangling from his hand. The woman looked surprised that he knew her name but approached nonetheless.

"Off you pop, dear," she said to Silas, still sitting on the end of the bed. Silas looked worriedly at his Dad, who nodded, and he clambered off the bed.

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, leaving Harry in his jeans and shirt. Another wave, the bloodstained shirt disappeared, and nearly everyone winced at the sight of what lay beneath.

Silas turned away immediately and found himself enveloped in the arms of the Hermione-girl. She smelled just like his Godmother Hermione. Silas hugged her back, then sneaked a glance at his dad again. He found he could bear it the second time.

Long jagged gnashes, some with glass still sticking out of them, crisscrossed over the old scars. It was a gruesome sight. Madam Pomfrey put her hands on her hips. "Are you some sort of daredevil?" she demanded.

Silas suddenly felt hot again. "He's a hero!" he said, angrily.

"Leave it, Si," said Mr. Potter, sounding very much in need of sleep. "I get enough of that from Ron and…" he yawned. "Iris." He groaned as Madam Pomfrey extracted a shard of glass fro his chest with her wand.

"Hermione going to – ouch – kill me," he said, breathing deeply. "That Time Turner… was her idea… she spent ages… begging Dumbledore… hours at the Ministry…"

"How come?" Silas asked.

"Same reason… we got that… Portkey," said his father, gritting his teeth. "Hermione… Ron... Remus... Iris… Dumbledore… all _way _too protective..."

He shut his eyes and bit his lip as a fourth shard delicately made it's way out of his flesh.

"How are you holding up?" Pomfrey asked him.

"Had… worse," Harry insisted.

"You're right," Silas concluded. "Auntie Hermione _is _going to kill you. You promised never to get on her bad side _ever _again." The girl behind him giggled.

"Didn't mean to," Harry moaned. "Bloody Death Eaters…"

"How is it that you arrived here?" the slimy man said. "A mere broken time turner would have projected you in time only, not distance. You should have stayed where you were, even at a different moment in time."

"I was trying… to apparate," Harry breathed slowly. "Dumbledore's office. Spell… got muddled… didn't mean to get… separated…"

"You can't apparate inside Hogwarts grounds," the man sneered.

Harry look up at him with dull eys. "Those rules don't apply to me… anymore, " he said.

"Well," said the boy-Harry, to fill the silence which ensued at this statement. "It's good you turned up when you did. We were all set to interrogate your kid on charges of being Voldemort's son."

"You WHAT?!" Harry and Silas both yelled at the same time.

"He's a Parselmouth," boy-Harry explained. "I heard him."

"He…" Silas' father looked at him with joy and pride in his eyes. "Si… you… well, imagine. My son a Parselmouth. You done good, kid." He beckoned to the ten-year-old and hugged him one-armed around the head.

"Careful, please," said Pomfrey, still busy with Harry's wounds.

"But," Silas started. "Uncle Ron said –"

"Your uncle Ron doesn't have to find out. He still hates it when _I_ do it, for goodness sake." Harry winced as Madam Pomfrey rubbed cleansing potion into the raw wounds.

"Still?" said the boy-Harry incredulously.

"Hey!" said the red-headed boy. "I don't hate it. Well, I don't like it, I guess…"

The two Harrys exchanged glances.

"What about Mum?" Silas asked excitedly.

"Er… you'd better not tell her," Harry said. The glass was all gone now, and a bandage was wrapping itself around him carefully. "She was uncomfortable enough about your name…"

"She'll find out anyway," Silas said proudly. "Mum can See anything."

"Only when she knows what she's looking for," Harry muttered.

"All right," said Madam Pomfrey. "You can get up now. I wouldn't recommend any strenuous activity for a few weeks – or at least until those wounds heal properly," she added at the look on Harry's face.


	5. Discussion

A/N: Hey, everyone! I'm not dead! Yes, I know this chapter's been waiting on my C drive forever and I couldn't be bothered to post it… nah, I'm kidding. I've just written it. It hasn't been checked or anything so don't expect top quality stuff. I'm not pleased with it, to tell you the truth – but Hermione/Harry banter!! YAY!!!

Enjoy!

From Age to Age the Same

Chapter 5 -Discussion.

"All right," said Madam Pomfrey. "You can get up now. I wouldn't recommend any strenuous activity for a few weeks – or at least until those wounds heal properly," she added at the look on Harry's face.

"Thanks," said Harry, sitting up and stretching. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again: you're amazing."

Silas might have been imagining it, but he could have sworn he'd seen his Pomfrey blush.

"Quite the charmer, aren't you?" said Remus, when Madam Pomfrey had bustled back into her office.

"I try," Harry said vaguely, putting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his eyes. Ron nudged young Harry, who rolled his eyes at Silas, who giggled.

"What's so funny?" asked his father.

"Nothing," Silas said quickly.

There was a brief silence while everyone weighed up the situation. Silas was Harry Potter's son, and they were here from thirteen years into the future. Future Harry was married.

"Iris?" younger Harry finally asked.

Mr. Potter sighed. "You do realise I'm going to have to obliviate you all when we go back."

No one argued with this. Harry looked at Snape. "Acceptable," said the Potions Master.

"Well," said Mr. Potter. All we have to do now is wait. There are charms to test for time-travel –"

"Really?" Hermione cut in.

"Very recently developed," Harry told her with a wink. "Hermione'll tell them to check. Once they've done that they ought to be able to determine what time we were sent to – that's if Hermione's research hasn't been buried under mounds of 'personal projects'…"

"Wait!" Ron cut in. "You're saying _Hermione_ invented this thing?"

"As we are constantly reminded," said Harry with a pained expression. "Spell inventors are highly revered among the general populace. She's a very rich woman – most of the time."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked.

"She gives it all away, of course!" Silas cut in before his father could reply. "I think it's nice."

"I think it's stupid," said the older Harry and Ron at the same time. Everyone else just looked confused. "She gives it all away to House Elf research and occasionally Werewolf support," Harry continued, "not that that's a bad thing," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender, "but our department's dirt poor and she doesn't even think of donating anything to our cause –"

"That's because there's no point to your cause, dirt brain," said a voice from the window. Silas looked up to see his aunt looking sternly over at them. Silas' hearth got a whole ton lighter as he launched himself at her. "Hermione!"

"Oh, thank goodness," the woman exclaimed, holding Silas close to her. "What on earth were you thinking, running away from your mother like that? We didn't know whether you'd been killed or captured or thrown into another time dimension –"

"Couldn't mum See what happened?" Silas asked innocently. Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know I don't believe in that sort of thing, dear," she said, tucking a single strand of hair behind her ear. The rest of her hair was cut short and tucked into a tight knot on the back of her head. It suited her without question, as did the white lab-coat she wore over her robes. The three sixteen year olds could only stare in disbelief.

"And _you_," she rounded on Harry.

"Uh oh," muttered the man, just loud enough for Remus to hear. The Professor covered his smile with his hands.

"This is most definitely not how that Time Turner was meant to be used ," the older version of Hermione continued. "And what did you think you were doing," telling them about the future like that – yes, I heard you. Now I'll have to call in our obliviators."

"They're not children Hermione," said Harry, making a pointed glance at Dumbledore and Snape. "Don't blame me if your younger self managed to work the whole thing out within seconds."

"I bet you gave them clues," said Hermione crossly. "You're good at that."

"Hermione, I landed on my own in the middle of the Forbidden forest with our stupid Time Turner embedded in my chest, without knowing what had happened to my son. They were bound to ask a couple of questions."

Hermione's face fell. The next second she had her arms around his neck, holding him to her like a child. This time, Harry didn't make a sharp comeback. He closed his eyes and stroked her hair. It got a little mussed but she didn't seem to notice.

"Touching," Snape growled. Silas had almost forgotten he was there, and it made him jump.

"Wonderful to see you too, old Sour Puss," Hermione half-laughed through her tears as she stood up. The expression on Snape's face after this remark made nearly everyone laugh, except Snape, who got up to leave. "Wait!" Hermione called after him. When he turned, he found the woman had her wand on him. The nerve of her! "Sorry," she said. "No one leaves this room - not until the obliviators get here. Sorry, Professor," she added to Dumbledore. "Quite understandable," Miss Granger," said the Headmaster, making Hermione turn a bright shade of red.

"Gosh, no one's called me that for ten years," she said. The older Harry laughed – but stopped quickly and winced at the pain in his chest. Hermione – already at his side, knelt down beside him. "Are you all right?" she asked quickly.

Harry groaned. "I knew this would happen," he moaned. "You're going to be just like you all were at the end of the war – oh, Harry! You've cut your finger – quick, let me help you, you can't possibly do that by yourself – quick let's get you to a hospital…' I thought I'd weaned you off all that rubbish."

"There's nothing wrong with concern, Harry, as I have been trying to tell you for years. Anyway – the paper cut thing was Ron's silly joke."

"It was better than yours," Harry smiled. "'Hmm, Harry… you've fallen off your broom and broken your arm? That's too bad. Are you sure you need medical attention? We should probably let you deal with it yourself – we wouldn't want to intrude or anything…"

Hermione made a face quite unsuitable for a woman of her age. "Well… you were being a silly prig."

"And you were being obnoxious."

"Are they always like this?" Remus asked Silas, apparently still trying not to laugh.

"Usually," said Silas, grinning. Everything would be all right now that his aunt was here.

"Well, is anyone else joining this merry gathering, or can we go home now?" Mr. Potter asked his friend.

"You are in no state whatsoever to time-travel," Hermione told him firmly. "Anyway, I'm just the runner. They'll have to completely remake all of the spell system to enable anyone to go back through it from here."

"What's a runner?" the younger Hermione squeaked. She was obviously trying to act as though she was completely over the sight of her older self, but was quite clearly still reeling from the experience.

"An observer, dear," the older Hermione told her younger self fondly. "A few of us were sent to see if we could locate the missing persons – that's Harry and Silas – and once we all arrive we can set up a time gateway on this side."

"Sounds awfully simple," said young Harry.

"But it's not," said the Harry in the bed. "You were first of course."

"Obviously."

"Who are the others?"

"How am I supposed to know – I was first on the scene and left straight away."

"That's not like you."

"Harry – when it's you, it's never like me."

"I appreciate that."

"Hey, guys!" Everyone looked up.

The next runner had arrived.

--

The end! Nah, just kidding. Please review, and when you have, go read chapter four of Evanesco, for it is up at last! And if you've just come from there, go BACK and leave me another review…. Ok, now I'm just desperate shrug

Love to everyone,

Laterose


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